


Resurrection of a Cold, Purple Heart

by GSKashmir



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-06 20:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13419144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GSKashmir/pseuds/GSKashmir
Summary: You just wanted a nice break from work in a beachside town where you could get away from it all.  But instead, you get so much more than you asked for.  For better or worse.It's a Female Reader/Amethyst fic!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, I wanted to write this with the goal of it being at least as good as Stuck Here On Earth With You, which is like my gold standard for reader/gem fics. If I get even close to how great that story is, then I will consider this story a success. But this story is for all the readers who relate to Amethyst as much as I do. I feel so bad for her and I just want to give her like a million hugs, you know? Anyway, these will likely be shorter chapters than I usually do because they just seem to work better for this. Enjoy!

It’s about 6 PM when your bus finally arrives at the station, and it takes another half hour for the cab you called to actually arrive at your new home for the next two weeks. Straight out of a Discovery Channel top ten list, Beach City was the getaway you were saving up for since that one week you were forced to work three doubles in a row and you decided you just had to leave. Granted, that week was about two years ago, but you pinched pennies, packed your lunches, and worked your butt off for as many tips as you could get, and this was the fruits of your labor; A picturesque vacation destination that left you breathless as soon as you saw the boardwalk from the road. The sun had set already, it being November and all, but the off-season rates for the rental place were too good to pass up, and if you had to wait until Summer, you might kill someone.

The taxi driver seemed to take every wrong turn, and you almost kicked up a fuss about him charging you the outlandish rate he did, but you decided against telling him all the reasons why Uber was the better choice and why he would be out of a job in a few short years. You swiped your card in his outdated (and quite frankly, sticky) looking meter, and removed your luggage as quickly as possible. The car smelled like cigarettes and gin that had passed through someone already, and you didn’t want any of your clothes smelling like that while you were here. Not before you had a chance to check out the laundry situation in your new home away from home.

While the taxi was still parked, you took a moment to look at the house while its headlights bathed the domicile in artificial light. It looked extremely spacious, much more so than your apartment back in Keystone. The front door was a pastel pink, which under any other circumstances, would stick out like a sore thumb. But the houses in this area all seemed to stick to the same aesthetic. Every house was painted the same kind of off white or eggshell, bordering on beige, but not quite there. The windows all had wooden, painted shutters that matched their pastel colored doors, which themselves were all different pastels. You could only see a few other houses illuminated by streetlamps, but yours seemed to be a good indicator of the rest of the area. Up high, you could see a balcony filled with beach chairs. Were it any other season, you might be inclined to take one of them to the beach, but you’d have to make due with the current late-autumn climate.

The taxi finally pulled away, the driver not bothering to make sure if you made it inside in one piece or not. You were a tad more concerned about that than he was, it seemed. The owner told you the key was under a flower pot near the front porch, and they didn’t lie to you. It was exactly where they said it would be, but your anxious mind couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if there was just a bit too much wind and the key was lost forever.

Quickly, you put a stop to those thoughts and took the opportunity to gaze out into the town. The boardwalk wasn’t far from here, and the lights looked ethereal in the light fog that seemed to coat the entire town. It was quite beautiful, if a little haunting. You hoped that the balcony you saw had a decent view, because if it did, you had better find where you packed your coat.

Looking further down the boardwalk, you saw what appeared to be a large, neon covered donut. You surmised it was for some sort of donut museum, and decided you would check it out later. You were a big fan of offbeat things like that, and small towns never seemed to lose their charm, so long as you hadn’t lived there your whole life.

Finally, you entered your new home until mid-December, and were greeted with a blast of heat that almost knocked you back out into the cold Autumn air. You dropped your bags and turned on the light, which showed you where the thermostat was. Quickly, you inspect it and turn it from 85 degrees back down to a much more respectable 68. The previous residents must have been made of ice, you surmised. In any case, the whole house was now incredibly uncomfortable. You heave a sigh and decide to leave the screen door closed and the larger pink door open. Not how you wanted to start things off, but you took solace in the fact that you were finally here.

Finally taking a moment to look around, you’re a bit excited by what you find in what must be the living room. Enormous, 70 inch flat screen television with a cable box on the beautiful looking wooden shelf underneath it. There was a recliner to the side and a large, incredibly comfortable looking red couch that faced the TV and had its back toward the door. Deeper into the living room, you saw a fireplace with two beanbags and a loveseat in front of it.

Your eyes linger on the fireplace for a bit too long, and you feel a small pang in your heart, making you wish you had someone to share that loveseat with. But you shake your head and try to think positive thoughts as you continue to explore the house.

There’s a small portion of the room that you could barely consider a hallway that has three doors. To the west, it leads to a half-bathroom. North, you see the staircase that leads up, and to the east, there’s a large bedroom. Upon entering the bedroom, you open both windows that you see before you before examining any further. Once the temperature has become a bit more comfortable for you, you take another look around. Another TV with a cable box is in this room, and there’s also a desk in the corner with the router and modem sitting on it. Perfect for setting up your laptop. Your eyes are drawn to the bed which has a down comforter on it, and you immediately feel the urge to leap onto it and roll around, letting the sheer amount of comfort it provides wash over you. Instead, you sit daintily on it and lie backward. As soon as you do, a gasp leaves your mouth, and you can only say one word.

“Tempurpedic…”

A moan that turns into a small laugh escapes your lips as you find yourself unable to help yourself. Before you can say “Thank the stars,” you’ve rolled yourself up in a big down comforter cocoon.

In hindsight, this was a terrible idea. Even though opening the windows made it more comfortable, it was still about 78 degrees in the room. You can already feel sweat begin to soak into your shirt as you reluctantly unwrap yourself and get up out of the bed. You decide that the master bathroom is calling out to you, so you open the door and enter to find the most advanced, spaceship looking bathtub you’d ever seen. It appeared to have temperature control, jets, detachable showerhead with multiple settings, and a tan box on a shelf that looked to be labeled “Lassiter’s Bath Bombs.” With a sharp intake of breath, you decide you will get well acquainted with this tub later.

As you leave the bedroom, you come to the realization that you’re continuing to sweat through your clothes. Of course your first moments in the house would be of duress. Perfect start to this vacation. Grumbling to yourself, you decide that it would be best to let the house cool down before you get comfortable. You unzip one of your bags and find your coat resting conveniently on the top of the pile. You bring it outside, along with your wallet, phone, and the house key and take a stroll down the boardwalk, the goal of grocery shopping at the forefront of your mind. You’re sure that the previous residents would not have left food behind, and even if they did, you didn’t want to know what kind of diseases they might have plagued it with.

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You find yourself back at your temporary home within an hour. The grocery store wasn’t too terribly far away, and you decided to get just the basics. Milk, bread, eggs, some ground beef, salt and pepper, cheese, buns, some fruits and veggies, et cetera. Fortunately, the house’s temperature had lowered significantly while you were away thanks to the open windows. Unfortunately, it still was not enough for it to be comfortable. You decide to leave the front door open and let some cold air come in through the screen. You turn the ceiling fan on in an effort to keep the air circulating, and decide that this should be good enough to keep things a decent temperature by the time you try to sleep tonight.

After a few minutes of thought, you decide that hamburgers sound good for dinner, and you proceed to roll the beef into balls with just a little salt and pepper. You've been to a couple barbeques where the chef painstakingly shaped the patties into perfect circles, but your experience as a fry cook at a previous job meant you knew it was much easier to just throw a ball of meat in the pan and smash it down with a spatula. 

But as you throw some oil into the pan, a series of noises coming from outside grabs your attention. You walk briskly over to the front door and look through the screen to try and see what's going on, and your eyes are met with the stereotypical sight of a dog chasing a cat. A strange sight, to be sure, you were certain this only happened on TV.

You feel a sense of unease as the dog gets closer to its prey. The dog looked very angry, and would possibly murder the cat in front of you. This was something that you decided would not happen, and you open the screen door. After locking it in place, you grab onto the knob of the much heavier wooden door and whistle loudly so both animals can hear.

Your plan surprisingly comes together. The cat actually responded to the noise you made and came barreling toward you. You get into your ready stance and wait. The cat is at least 20 yards away, but that distance will close very quickly. You almost lose sight of the animals as they move out from under the streetlamp, but you regain visual contact as they show up under the lights from your house.   
You inhale and hold, realising how stupid this is. The dog could be rabid and you could miss. The cat could be just as rabid, and then you would have a rabid cat in your vacation home. You could get rabies and not have enough money for shots. This plan was terrible, what did you get yourself into?

Before you could hesitate anymore, you see the cat shoot right through your legs, which you take as your cue to shut the wooden door as quickly as possible, right into the face of the angry dog. You hear a loud thump and whining from the other side as soon as you do, and you finally exhale in relief. You're okay. The cat is okay. The possibly rabid dog is outside. Your plan worked and now, you could make dinner.

Instead of going back to the kitchen, you fall back against the door and slowly slide down until you're sitting on the floor. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to bring your adrenaline down. It helps a little, but the biggest help comes when you feel someone running their small, furry little head into your arm. It makes you giggle a bit and you start to pet the grateful cat.

It's a nice feeling. It makes you miss the pets you used to have before moving into your apartment. You quickly try to force those thoughts away. Besides, you have a new friend now. Your first friend in Beach City, and it was a cat. You open your eyes to greet your new furry friend, and immediately you have to ask them question.

“...Why are you purple?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it's been forever. But I have an update finally! Depression hits hard, fam. I'm making myself write at least a half hour every day now, so I'm hoping to get more regular about my writing habits. I promise the next chapter (for any of my works, not just this one) will come out sooner.

What a crazy start to your vacation. Less than two hours in, and you’ve met a cat that’s purple. You consider making an Alice in Wonderland reference, but refrain. Now is not the time. This poor creature could be covered in some kind of toxic coloring. Thinking quickly, you pick it up and set it in your lap so you can examine it closer. It struggles a bit, but seems okay once it gets the chance to settle down.

“Hold still for a second, little dude. I gotta give you a once over real quick.”

You comb through its fur and take a closer look at its roots. Still purple, all over. Doesn’t seem like dye, oddly enough. A few ideas go through your head without warning. Maybe some kind of radiation sickness. Pigment deficiency. Genetic mutation. Do any of these make sense? You decide they don’t. And with that decision, you admit that you have no idea why the hell this cat is purple. But maybe it has something to do with the giant rock in its sternum.

“Uhhh…” The noise escapes you slowly. You put your hands on the stone. “Little dude, you got a rock stuck to you. Let me just…”

As you try to give it a twist, the purple cat swipes at your hand with its claws and hisses wildly. You’re thankful for your reflexes as you quickly move your hand away.

“WHOA! You gotta chill, man! I’m trying to help you, ya little jerk.”

The cat responds by turning and showing you its butt. You throw your hands up and decide “screw it.”

“Alright, fine. Whatever, I won’t touch your… whatever that is.”

Curiously, the cat seems to understand you when you say that, and rubs its head against your leg.

“Glad we’re friends again…”

You get back to your feet and head for the kitchen, wondering what you should make for the cat, if anything at all. Did it already eat a bunch of garbage? Maybe it’s full, you just don’t know.

“I hope you like veggies, little guy. I’m making burgers for dinner, and I don’t know if cats can have red meat, so you gotta make due with some bell peppers. You can eat those, right…?”

You pause and wonder if the peppers would be harmful to the purple feline, and decide to look it up on the internet before taking that risk. The last thing you want to do is hurt your only friend in this town, or worse; accidentally murder them.

After a harrowing google search revealing that cats can be poisoned by peppers, mushrooms, and onions, you decide that until you get some food, this cat is going to have to live off lettuce.

“I really hope you like leafy greens, little guy, because that’s really all I can feed you tonight. Also, you’re gonna have to use a people bowl instead of a cat bowl because, well, you kind of showed up unannounced and I had no time to prepare. But that’s okay, just maybe call ahead next time.”

As you turn the stovetop on, you begin to feel like if anyone heard you talking to this cat, they would call you crazy. But after a moment of consideration, you decide that nobody else is here, so screw those judgemental jerkwads.

The pan comes up to temperature, and the oil is just below its smoke-point, so you place two balls of ground beef in the pan and crush them down against the cast iron with a metal spatula and the handle of a wooden spoon. You’d seen quite a few Tubetube videos about diner-style smash burgers, and you decided to give it a shot. While the patties were cooking, you prepared the bun by placing both sides into the toaster on its medium setting, then removing them and lathering on the condiments and some vegetables that you sliced up. Finally, you remove the delicious looking patties and place them daintily on the bun with cheese between them, creating what you believe to be the best looking burger you’d ever made in your adult life.

“You see this shit, little guy? This is a work of art! I am the queen of the kitchen, all subjects must bow before me!”

You see the cat begin to stretch out. It must just be stretching, because there’s no way that it understood you and actually bowed. You bend down and scratch its head a little bit before placing your burger on the dinner table.

“I didn’t forget you, little dude, let me throw your salad together real quick and we can both eat at the same time.”

You turn your back on your burger and start absentmindedly shredding lettuce and tossing it into a bowl. Your first night here is shaping up to be a very interesting one. Purple cats with strange rocks stuck in them aren’t something you’re used to back in Keystone. You wonder if maybe it’s a regional thing, like maybe some animals are tye-dye here. That thought begets another, and you wonder if there was some sort of radioactivity in the water that causes animals to change color. Or, more realistically, are people adopting animals and dying their fur because of some new fad? If it were up to you, no animal would be dyed like that. Even if it was supposedly safe, you probably still wouldn’t risk it. Maybe it’s super uncomfortable for the animal. You’d have no way of knowing. But this cat seems happy enough, so maybe it’s not all that unpleasant. You wonder if you should dye your own hair purple, but quickly realize that you would likely be fired for it. Keystone was not a very friendly place for punk-looking people. You either conform or be cast out in such a rural area. You shake your head and try not to think about Keystone. You were here in Beach City now. You had plenty of time to think about the state you live in once you actually go back there. For now, you wanted it out of your mind.

You stop spacing out and realize that you made way too much salad for the cat, and wonder if maybe you could split it and have a side salad with your own burger. You turn around to see the purple cat laying on its back on the table and nothing else. This puzzles you.

“...Where did the burger go?”

The cat purrs in response, almost beckoning you to scratch its belly. But you’re a bit too worried to do that right now.

“Seriously, little dude, did you knock it off the table or something…?”

You look all around and find nothing on the floor. Besides, the plate was still on the table. Even a few crumbs remained. But your dinner was nowhere to be found. You stand up straight and grab the sides of your head, a little anxious.

“Is there a gas leak in here…?” you ask to no one in particular, but realize that all the windows are open. It’s too well ventilated for a gas leak to affect you like this.

Your stomach growls at you, and you grumble back at it. Resigned to your fate, you chop up a few more veggies and dig into your salad, bewildered at the loss of your culinary art piece that you were so excited to eat.

 

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Hours later, after you had finished your salad (but not before you offered some lettuce to the cat and received no response), you decide to turn in for the night. You consider trying out one of the (hopefully) complimentary bath bombs, but think that you would fall asleep in the warm tub, and that wasn’t an ideal sleeping arrangement.

You enter your bedroom and remember the amazing tempurpedic mattress that you melted into earlier that evening. Promptly, you disrobe, shut off the light, and launch yourself right into the bed, covering yourself in the blankets. You decided to leave the windows open. Sleep always came easier when you were wrapped in a warm blanket while surrounded by the cold. Besides, you weren’t paying the heating bill.

Just as you plug your cell phone in to charge, you hear a mew and then feel a very small body land on the foot of your bed. It brought a smile to your face and you couldn’t help but feel your heart burst. You secretly hoped the cat would keep you company tonight, but didn’t want to pressure the poor thing.

You reach down and scratch the top of its head, and you hear it start to purr at you.

“I’m really glad I let you in to get away from that dog. You’re a pretty cool little dude, you know? I was kind of worried that I would have to spend most of my time here alone. Especially considering what it’s like back home… After high school, everyone went off to college to start their own lives and whatnot, and, well… Now it’s just me. I have co-workers, sure, but it’s not like we do anything outside of work. Sometimes, I really miss having friends who would drop unannounced to hang out, maybe bring cake for your birthday or even a little bit of pot or something… Wait, you’re not a cop, are you?”

You feel the cat bury its head into one of your calves. You assume that means no, and you giggle at your own joke.

“Nah, you’re way too cool to be a cop, little dude. Anyway, tomorrow, I’m gonna get you some legitimate food. You didn’t eat anything tonight, so I wanna get you something you’d like. And hopefully I’ll find out where that burger went. I sure as Hell didn’t eat it, so it must have fallen on the floor somewhere, and I really need to clean that up or they’re gonna charge me out the ass for ruining their carpet.”

Suddenly, you hear a laugh. Not a full blown guffaw, but a stifled, raspy titter. Alarmed, you grab your phone and turn on your flashlight app to light up your room. You see nothing.

“...Hello…? Is someone there…?”

No response. You sit up, slightly panicked, and look out the window.

“No one… Am I just like, hearing things…? Did you hear it too, little dude?”

The cat remains unresponsive and you lay back down.

“Calm down,” you tell yourself, “it was probably just someone on a walk across the street. Some people talk late night walks, that has to be it. Ghosts and monsters aren’t real… Though serial killers are…”

You feel yourself start to get a bit too panicked, and you begin to count your breaths to try and calm down.

Almost as if it knew what was happening, the cat stands up and presses its head into your chest, rubbing itself on you and almost causing you to laugh.

It helps immensely.

Slowly, you drift off into a nice, calm sleep.


End file.
